Pins and Needles
by Asshatry
Summary: She's always been invisible to Negan, but when she agrees to become his wife to get medication to control her pain, she sets out to make him finally see her. (SMUTT/FLUFF)


I was startled awake by a sharp throbbing in my neck. I reached over to touch it, and the sudden contact caused the pain to flare up even worse. I closed my eyes and whimpered as an intense burning sensation rippled through me. I had ran out of medication and this was going to be my reality from now on.

I had already been struggling before everything went to shit. I remembered the first time the pain had started; I had just turned 18 and I was sitting in the doctor's office when we learned all about fibromyalgia—the incurable condition that I would have to cope with for the rest of my life. I remember my mother sobbing into my father's shoulder at the idea of her baby having to be in so much pain, and my father reassuring her that it was treatable. They put me on meds, and for the most part, the pain was manageable.

Then the dead started coming back to life, and in this new world—a world where the only thing that truly mattered was survival—stress was inescapable. It was also a major contributing factor to my pain flaring up.

My parents perished, but I wasn't alone for long. The Saviors found me pretty quickly, and I joined their group. One of them, a man named Henry, took me under his wing and said he would take care of me. The Saviors themselves were brutal and could be very cruel, but Henry was always kind to me. One day, when he found me wincing in pain, he asked about my condition. I explained it to him, and he set out to find me medication. Sure enough, not even a week later, I had enough pills to last me for months. All he asked in return was that I followed Negan's rules.

Negan was the leader of the Saviors and a very strict, menacing man. I didn't interact with him, except to drop down on one knee when he would walk by. He didn't seem to notice me, and I was both grateful and disappointed about that. Some days, I wished he would just see me. His wives were treated like goddesses, and I would fantasize about becoming one.

I lived inside the factory building, with Henry watching over me for a long time. We didn't tell Dr. Carson about my pain, and instead chose to deal with it on our own. Henry was a Savior, which meant he could take whatever he wanted, and he did. Sometimes, when the pain was really bad, he would get me muscle relaxers. But most days I was just fine with the regular pills, and I got a job working for points as a janitor.

"Save those points up," Henry would say to me. "I'm not gonna be around forever, and these meds ain't cheap, kiddo."

One day, Henry went to an outpost, and he didn't return. I found out a little while later that his entire group had been killed by walkers. That night, I sobbed myself to sleep; not because I wouldn't get medication from him anymore, but because I'd lost my friend. I was alone again.

I hadn't been working very long, and didn't have many points saved up. Eventually, the meds I had collected from Henry ran out, and I was forced to use my points.

 _Then those ran out too._

I had nothing left, and the pain was back, worse than I ever remembered it being when it was unchecked. I curled up in bed, knowing full well that if I wanted to afford the pills, I needed to get up and do my job.

I pulled myself to my feet and ignored the pain that was still tingling in my neck. I got dressed slowly, almost forgetting to put my socks on before my shoes. Sometimes, the pain was so distracting that I forgot to do basic things. I struggled to concentrate when the stabbing pain struck.

I headed down to one of the janitor's closets and grabbed one of the mobile cleaning carts. I filled a basin with water and brought everything into the hallway. The faster I got my job done, the sooner I could crawl back into bed and try to sleep through it—though that very rarely worked.

I was mopping the floor when I heard a booming voice echo loudly against the walls. I looked up just in time to see Negan was rounding the corner with a few of his men in tow.

I slowly dropped down onto a knee, careful not to slip on the wet floor, and averted my eyes. He walked by me without a single word, and I held my breath. He was a very intimidating man, and it made me nervous. He was also walking over the floors I had just cleaned, but I knew better than to point that out.

Negan was further down the hallway when I got back to my feet and started to mop again. He had almost rounded the next corner when I felt another sharp stabbing pain in my lower back. I couldn't help but cry out, and I dropped the mop, reaching my hand around to my back to try and feel the tender point.

My muscles felt so incredibly sore, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for it to just stop. When I opened them, I saw a leather jacket right before my eyes, and I slowly looked up to see Negan standing close.

 _Too close._

I couldn't help but gulp. He had never even looked at me before, but here he was, staring down at me with a curious expression. I averted my eyes and was just about to apologize when he spoke.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, looking a little amused at my nervousness. His men were standing back a bit, waiting for him. I bent a bit, trying my best to ignore the pain, and picked up the mop.

"It-it's nothing, s-sir," I stuttered, looking up at his face and willing myself to keep breathing. This was intense. I almost forgot the pain in my back, but it was still pulsing as strong as ever. I was having a hard time concentrating on him because of it.

"No, it's not fucking nothing. Something is wrong. Tell me. _Now_." He was demanding, and I knew better than to deny him.

"I have fibromyalgia," I said very plainly, continuing to hold his gaze. I clutched the mop as if it would save me from this awkward situation.

"That sounds like a fucking STD," Negan said with a disgusted look on his face. I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit, but when his expression didn't soften, I regained my serious composure.

"It's not. I suffer from muscle and nerve pain."

Negan looked at me for a long time without saying anything, and then he leaned onto something. _Lucille_ —the dreaded barbed wire bat he used as his primary weapon. My eyes had drifted over to her when Negan's voice brought my attention back to him.

"You got meds?" he asked, still such a serious look on his face.

"No," I admitted, fighting the urge to reach to my back again. The pain was growing as he stood before me.

He looked me over, as if sizing me up, and then slowly smiled.

"You know you don't have to keep mopping these floors if you don't want to." His grin grew wider as he took me in. "I have another job I'd like to offer you."

"What?" I asked, having a pretty good idea of where this was going.

"You become one of my wives, and I'll get you the medication you need."

I had dreamed about this happening, but didn't think the day would come. Negan's wives looked like models, and I didn't think I would fit in well. He hadn't even looked at me before, as far as I knew, and within seconds of speaking to me he was asking me to marry him.

Any other time I would have laughed at the idea, but the pain was getting to be unbearable, and I needed my medication. Survival meant doing anything to get by, and he wasn't exactly bad looking.

"Okay," I answered, almost as soon as he asked it. He raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quick I agreed to it. I smiled a little at him, to show him I was totally on board. If he scratched my back, I'd scratch his.

He pointed down the hall with the bat.

"Go get fitted for a dress, and I'll let Carson know to get your meds ready. I'll see you tonight." He winked at me, and then continued the way he had been heading with his men. I looked down at the mop and wondered what the hell I had just done.

That night, I took the pills, but I knew it would be a little while before I experienced any relief. The meds always took a while to kick in and start working.

I sat in a large lounge room with a handful of other women who all seemed to keep to themselves. Some of them were reading, and others were sleeping. They all wore tight black dresses and heels, and I had also received a matching outfit. They didn't seem to pay me any mind, and I was okay with that.

I was sitting on a couch, and felt very nervous. Negan had said he would see me tonight, which probably meant we were going to consummate our marriage. The idea of sleeping with him made me both scared and excited.

I watched the door as the minutes ticked by, but Negan never showed. Eventually, I curled up and fell asleep on one of the small couches. When I woke up the next morning, I was extremely confused. Hadn't he said _"see you tonight?"_

The next night, he came into the parlor room and didn't even look at me. He walked right up to another one of his wives, took her hand into his, and led her out of the room. I furrowed my brows as they both disappeared through the door.

 _Had he forgotten about me?_

The night after, he took another wife, and walked right by me. I stared up at him with wide eyes, willing him to look down at me, but he didn't. I felt like I had before when I was his janitor—invisible. It was like I wasn't even there.

And on the fourth night, I wanted answers. Perhaps it was because the meds had actually started to kick in and the pain was bearable, or maybe I was jealous of his other wives. Either way, I felt determined and decided to figure out what his problem was. Wasn't this a part of our deal? I got my meds, he got me.

 _So why didn't he want me?_

I used some of the makeup available to us and dolled myself up, pulling on a flimsy white nightgown, a multi colored kimono, and slipped into some heels. He was going to notice me, and I was going to make sure of it. The heels hurt my feet, but I was used to pain.

I approached his door and knocked loudly.

I heard a shuffling sound, and then the door opened. It was late, and I noticed how tired he was as soon as I could see him. He looked down at me, his eyes lingering on my chest and then looked back at my face.

"Well, hello there," he murmured with a lazy grin.

"Can I come in?" I asked in a silky voice, smiling a bit at him.

He gestured for me to enter, and I stepped into his room carefully, moving slowly in the tall heels.

"What the fuck can I do for you, sweetheart?" Negan asked, biting his lip as he took me in. I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why have you been ignoring me?" I demanded, taking a defensive stance. He tilted his head at me, confused.

"I haven't," he said simply, his eyes stopped undressing me and looked into mine.

"Bullshit!" I barked, a little too loudly, and he seemed a bit surprised at my outburst. "You said that if I married you, I would get my medication. You said you would come get me, but you never did. You haven't even looked at me!"

He was looking now, but his expression wasn't what I expected.

 _Pity?_

I furrowed my brows in confusion as I studied his face. He didn't even look like the same leader everyone feared. He looked soft. I put the pieces together before he even opened his mouth to respond.

"You think I'm broken," I blurted, cutting him off from whatever crappy excuse he was about to give me. "That's why you married me. Because you feel sorry for me."

He didn't need to confirm it—I could see it in his face that I was right. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at me and I bowed my head.

"I'm not made of glass," I said in a low voice. Yeah I suffered from pain that on some days could be excruciating, but I was still human. I wasn't so fragile that he couldn't touch me. I wanted him to touch me.

Negan let out a sigh.

"I never said you were, honey," he drawled. "I'm sorry you're feeling neglected, but you're here now." His eyes trailed down my body again—at the thin white nightgown, the kimono draped over my shoulders, and the black heels.

"Because I have a point to prove," I mewled.

He watched me without a response as I turned my back to him and slinked out of the kimono. I draped it on one of the chairs in his room and looked over my shoulder. I had his full attention; he had moved to sit down on the edge of his bed and his eyes were fixed right on me. We made eye contact as I slid one of the thin straps of the nightgown down my arm, showing my bare shoulder to him.

"And I don't need your pity." I slid my hands down my body, towards the hem of my nightgown, and I slowly started to peel it up, showcasing my lace panties to him, and then my bare stomach. I stopped pulling the gown up just before my breasts were exposed and I let it go; the fabric dropped back against my body, and I would have sworn I heard Negan growl.

I moved the other strap off my other shoulder and I held my arms tight at my side—the only thing keeping me clothed. I looked up at him in the middle of my little strip tease to see the look of full-blown lust on his face.

"But what I don't understand is why you don't want me…" The nightgown fell down my body and pooled at the floor. His eyes trailed down my body, but I covered my breasts by crossing my arms and still had my back to him. He was looking down at my ass and he bit his lip, letting out a long breath.

We remained locked like that for a long time before he sat up a bit.

"Come here," he demanded in a low voice.

I smirked at him and shook my head no. I was going to make him wait like he had made me wait.

I moved the nightgown away with one of my heels and turned a bit more to face him, unhooking my arms and exposing my chest to him. I slowly moved a hand to cup my breast and squeezed it softly. My other hand mimicked the action, and I cupped both my breasts in my hands. I threw my head back and let out a soft moan, closing my eyes as I groped myself. I was probably over-selling it, but it seemed to be working.

Negan spread his legs out a bit as I arched my back into my own touch. I slid one of my hands down the front of my exposed stomach and over my panties, lingering just over my clothed folds and softly rubbing. The sensation felt amazing, and I added a bit more friction.

I opened my eyes to see Negan was touching himself as well; he had pulled his dick out from his pants and was stroking himself and staring at me with a ravenous look. I couldn't help but watch; I couldn't look away from it.

"Would feel so much fuckin' better if you'd take over," he panted, leaning back a bit on the bed and continuing to jerk himself off.

I stopped touching myself and was about to go to him—to give him what he wanted, and what I was also craving, when he made me freeze in my tracks with a single word that sent shivers down my spine.

" _Crawl_ ," he ordered in a low voice.

I sank down onto my knees and placed my hands on the floor. As I moved towards him, sliding against the ground with my heels sticking up off the floor, he sat up on the edge of the mattress. My breasts were hanging down and my ass was high in the air as I pulled myself closer to him, crawling to his feet.

When I reached him, I placed two hands on his legs and remained kneeling before him. Negan's hand tangled into my hair and his eyes grew wide as I licked my lips and then slid my mouth over his hard member.

He hissed, and his grip on my hair tightened as I hollowed my cheeks and took him further into my mouth. When I moved my mouth off him, I ran my tongue against his length slowly, and then took him in again. I looked up at him with big eyes as I sucked him off.

It wasn't long before his grip loosened and he moved his hand from my head and to my wrist. I slid my mouth off him and looked up, confused. He pulled me up and onto the bed with him.

"Good girl," he murmured, pressing his mouth to my neck and nibbling against my skin.

I couldn't help but smile wide. When he pulled back, he gazed into my eyes, and I blushed. His hand cupped my chin, and I leaned into him as he pressed his lips against mine softly—much softer than I had expected.

I deepened the kiss, moving my arm so it was around his neck, and pulled him even closer. He smiled against my mouth and, before I knew it, he was rolling me back onto my back and climbing on top of me.

He continued to kiss me passionately, and I moaned against his mouth as I tasted him. We remained like that for a short while before he stood up off the bed and began to fully undress himself. I watched him in amazement as he pulled off his shirt.

"You thought you were pretty clever, visiting me in that little white nightgown?" he was gazing down at my naked body before him, and I smirked up at him.

"Mhmm," I answered, gliding a hand down my bare skin; my fingertips traced little patterns as I teased him.

He leaned over me and pressed his lips against my stomach. I shivered at the feeling of his beard prickling against my sensitive skin, and I couldn't help but let out a giggle.

"Ticklish?" he asked, looking up at me from where he was leaning over my abdomen. I shook my head vigorously, clearly lying. He chuckled and then started to kiss me again, moving a bit lower. I shuddered and squirmed at the feeling, but he pinned me down and continued to press his lips against my skin. Then he started to move back up; his kisses danced up my body, and I let out a loud moan just as his lips found my breasts.

He took a nipple into his mouth and his hands moved to my panties. He pulled them down my legs as he sucked softly on my tender skin, and my head lolled back at the intense pleasure.

My eyes were closed and I whimpered when his mouth moved away from my flesh. I didn't want him to stop, but then I felt his hands grip my hips. He was completely on top of me, and I lifted myself up to grind against his hard erection.

He finally wanted me. It was happening, and I was so ready for it. But he hesitated, and I felt his hand lightly trail down from my side to my thigh. He looked right into my eyes.

"I just don't want to hurt you," he whispered it, slowly rubbing my leg.

"You won't," I reassured him, reaching up and placing a hand against his cheek. He leaned into my touch and then moved to position himself at my entrance.

Negan kissed me hard as he entered me, and I gasped at the feeling. It hurt, but it was a different kind of pain than I was used to experiencing—a good kind of pain.

We moved together in unison, and I panted as he filled me up completely. I clutched the bed sheets tightly in my hands as he thrust in and out of me. I wrapped my arms around his back and clutched onto him tightly, moaning freely as he buried himself deeper inside. He was hitting all the right spots, and the pace was perfection.

It wasn't long before I felt a pressure build and I allowed myself to let go. His name left my lips as I became engulfed by an intense orgasm that was like violent static tingling throughout my entire body.

I arched up as he pounded in me, fucking me through my climax. It wasn't long before he reached his too.

"Fuck!" he groaned, leaning over me as he finished off inside me. He held himself up above me for a few more moments and then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against my forehead. Then he rolled onto the empty side of the mattress, breathing hard. I was gasping myself, trying to come back down to earth.

"Wow," he said in an satisfied voice.

I turned to look at him, and he was smiling at me.

"I second that," I chuckled between breaths. He continued to look at me, and I sat up a bit. "Told you I'm not fragile."

"I don't think it's the pills making you feel good," he said with a smirk. "Think about it. You haven't suffered since you married me."

"I'm pretty sure it's the pills," I laughed, snuggling up next to him.

"Doesn't the pain feel better when I'm around?" he teased, placing a kiss against my head. "I think I made for one hell of a distraction from it."

"Pills," I reiterated.

"I think you should keep doing both, just to be fuckin' sure," he mumbled into my hair. I giggled and nodded.

That sounded good to me.


End file.
